


Turn About

by linguisticallycunning



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Eventual Smut, F/F, First Time, Good natured stalking, Lonely Seven, Stasis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-18 11:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguisticallycunning/pseuds/linguisticallycunning
Summary: Set during the events of the episode “One”, we get to see how Seven spends her alone time in the nebula.  Inspired by Janeway’s watchful nature, Seven gets a chance to spend some quality time with Janeway in stasis.





	Turn About

**Author's Note:**

> This started out a quick one shot and exploded away as soon as I started writing. I was intrigued by the thought Seven got to watch a sleeping Janeway, leveling a bit of that particular trope. And as always, I don’t own them but they certainly have their way with me. 
> 
> NB I am still working on ‘Song’, just momentarily stalled. This one took over my brain and I was helpless to it.

Seven’s footsteps echoed through the empty corridors. Voyager felt like a ghost ship and she could not help noticing the purity of the silence. Her ears picked up the faint hum of the warp core, the tiny currents of air circulating, even the Doctor’s holographic respiration. It was the exact opposite of the Collective and Seven was not having an easy time adapting to so much of her own voice in her head. It had been five days since they had entered the nebula and the crew had been put in stasis. Five days with only the Doctor for company. Five days without a conversation with Captain Janeway. Five days since she had regenerated properly. Just twenty-five more, thought Seven with a tiny sigh.

Her attitude about this solitary mission had been cavalier. She felt anything but that now. Mostly she had wanted her Captain to trust her, to be impressed by her abilities. She wanted the Captain to smile at her and she had. But she had also cautioned Seven and it was those words that echoed in her regenerating mind. Failure was not an option but adapting was proving extremely difficult. She had already grown weary at the Doctor’s “banter”, snapping at him no less than three times in the last forty-eight hours.

Try as she might, Seven struggled with the unending silence and the incongruous thoughts that accompanied it. Time and again, her feet brought her back to deck fourteen, to the stasis tubes, in particular the one containing a certain red-headed, Starfleet Captain. Seven walked the now familiar path, around many of the senior staff, and wound up staring through the small window where Janeway’s freckled face was framed. Seven could not count her actions as logical. In fact, the Captain had been inspiring a whole range of new emotions in Seven. Some of these, she noted, were accompanied by a physiological response. She had begun to note similar correlations in the Captain’s behaviors before they had entered the nebula.

Logically, Seven knew that many of the reactions connoted attraction, and in theory, she knew the physiological responses. But the Borg had done much to destroy the normal pathways for these sensations. The Collective had no use for emotion, for physical copulation, or for anything remotely individual. And emotions, Seven noted, were where she lost the thread. Confusion was not a comfortable sensation for Seven and dealing in emotions seemed to only create more confusion. Humans still baffled her, from her discomfort at “small talk” to all of the variations they had to evade the truth. Even Captain Janeway often concealed the true nature of her physical responses. Just six days ago, the Captain had massive spikes in both her heart rate and respiration when she was informed about the nebula and yet she stated she was “fine”.

That was illogical. Yet Seven understood Janeway’s intention, her command mask literally masking her physical and emotional selves from her subordinates. Only Seven could see past it from the physical side. The emotions still evaded her. She looked down at the Captain’s serene face. It was hard to see her, speak to her even, and get no response. Illogical!

It had never stopped the Captain from speaking to her when she was regenerating. Of course, the Captain had no idea Seven could actually still hear her even in that seemingly inert state. Mostly it wasn’t her ears that alerted Seven to Janeway’s presence in the green-dark of Cargo Bay Two. Merely Janeway’s proximity was enough to disrupt current from synapse, rousing Seven’s semi-dormant consciousness.

The Captain never really said much as she broke Seven’s privacy night after night. Of course Seven didn’t see it as privacy. That was another concept Humans held in esteem. Seven often saw it as inefficient but lately she had noticed a certain possessiveness about Janeway’s solitary vigils. It began with an electric prickling of nerves unseen. A jolt in her mental regeneration. She had always been able to sense Janeway but now she craved her attentions even as she was ever more repulsed by the presence of any other crew during her regeneration cycles. She supposed that was ‘wanting a little privacy’ as Lieutenant Torres had put it.

Of course that was currently a moot point, the entirety of the crew being in stasis all around her. Seven looked again at the steady, sleeping face of her Captain. She felt her pulse flutter as she let her fingers glide across the clear polymer separating her from Janeway.

An alarm sounded, shaking the silence, and snapping Seven from her reverie. Without taking a step, Seven realized the alarm originated at Tom Paris’ biobed. This was the second time he escaped, she thought as she quickly wove her away up the aisle of beds. The Doctor appeared with a shimmer just as Seven was about to hoist Tom back into his unit.

“Always a challenge, this one,” the Doctor sighed. Seven fought the urge to ‘roll her eyes’ lest she find herself punished with yet another social lesson on rudeness.

The Doctor ran a cursory scan before helping Seven to lift him back into the stasis unit.

“Were you already here, Seven?” The hologram queried given the quickness which he had responded to the alert. Seven did note the ulterior motive hanging around his holographic Adam’s apple.

“I was. I had just completed my alpha shift circuit when Mr. Paris grew—restless.”

“Was that an attempt at humor? Bravo! Or should I say Brava,” he laughed clapping his hands.

Seven did roll her eyes this time before stating in a perfect deadpan, “It was sarcasm, Doctor,” before turning on her heel and walking out of the bay. The Doctor stood agape, surprised at both his star pupil’s progress as well her snark. It might be time for another trip to the Holodeck, he thought as he hummed through the rest of his rounds.

  
****

Another week passed in the nebula. Seven had established a kinetic routine that kept her mobile for nearly fourteen hours including two breaks for nutritional supplements. She regenerated for four and a half hours each night. It was more regeneration than she really needed and yet she still did not feel like she was operating within acceptable parameters. The Doctor had insisted on spending evening hours ‘relaxing’ with her as they kept watch over the crew. Mostly they just enjoyed some music and often, to Seven’s chagrin, some chitchat. Seven still could not see the point of small talk, over and over about nothing or worse something completely untrue. She did notice a pattern in the Doctors conversational technique. Often he extolled on his own good points or complained at length about how taxing the nebula was. But other times he attempted to steer the conversation to the captain. Seven was more than aware he was tracking her responses. For all that she would have liked some advice, she no longer felt comfortable asking it of him. He still gave it freely to be sure but Seven evaded most of his Janeway questions, skewing his burgeoning hypothesis.

Truthfully, Seven could have used another opinion on Janeway. This nebula was allowing entirely too much time for thought! But what’s a former Borg drone to do? With only holograms to speak? It’s true the simulations had proved helpful. Seven could even get through a full five minute conversation with Lieutenant Torres before the half-Klingon resorted to threats, idle and otherwise. She may have been just a simulation, but an angry B’Elanna in any form was no one Seven wanted to mess with, hologram or not.

It was her interactions with Janeway that proved the most illuminating, and not just to Seven. While it was unsurprising that Seven interacted more with Janeway than any of the other holograms, the Doctor had noted a consistent shift with every interaction. The Captain’s presence, even in a simulation, was enough to visibly relax the normally taut muscles in Seven’s face and neck. It didn’t matter if they were discussing warp core diagnostics or Neelix’s cooking, Seven instantly became at ease in the Captain’s company. The Doctor had noted a similar response when Seven visited the Captain in stasis. He wanted to discuss these findings but Seven was doing everything in her power to evade him.

  
****

  
The air was thick and dark all around her. Her eyes fought through the murk seeing little but a faint green mist. She was alone. The darkness began to shift and an insect-like buzzing suddenly filled her ears. With a blast of white light, a form appeared before her, it was lithe and familiar and painted in shades of red and gold. Seven fought to focus her eyes but the shape continued to bounce and distort, blowing steadily away from Seven’s eyes. There was another flash and the darkness returned. The buzzing had faded with the light and was replaced by the echo of whipping winds. There was a faint whisper in the breeze and even with her advanced hearing, Seven could barely disseminate it from the gale. But the voice was achingly familiar and Seven strained her ears ever harder.

“Seven,” it whispered. “Love is not a theory.”

Then the wind whistled in a heightening pitch, whirring until it was finally replaced by the predictable current of electricity and warp harmonics.

“Regeneration cycle incomplete.”

  
Seven blinked back into full consciousness and shook her head as if to clear it. The dream was still with her as she stepped off the dais and checked the controls. There was no apparent reason the cycle had ended fifteen minutes early, but then there had been no reason for it the last three weeks. And the images were always disjointed and chaotic, lacking in any logic. There was only a single constant, Kathryn Janeway, in all her many forms. Even when there was no form, just a voice, a whisper, she was there and Seven knew it. She just didn’t understand what it meant. The interrupted cycles were wearing on her as much as the nebula was.

Seventeen days had passed. Seventeen long, mostly routine days. Day eighteen had just begun but it was a now familiar beginning. Seven couldn’t shake the dream today though. It took all of her Borg self-control to not immediately dash to the Captain’s stasis pod. There was no logic in that either but the urge had crested over her with amazing force. She wanted to talk to Janeway, in fact Seven was desperately missing her. She felt a pain in her abdomen, a twisting sharp twinge, as Janeway’s blue eyes danced across Seven’s mind. She was about to hail the Doctor but the pain subsided at the mere thought of him. The pains returned as her thoughts drifted back to Janeway. Seven felt queasy for a moment as her heart began to pound in her ears. But again, the thought of the Doctor was enough to return her to a functioning status.

Seven could not ignore the clear cause and effect and, after running a brief diagnostic, could only come to one conclusion. Unfortunately it was a conclusion that could not be proven, at least not on board this ship. But the pieces fit and Seven could see it clearly now. She had fallen in love…with the Captain. And while Seven could not explain it, once the hypothesis had taken hold, she found she could think of little else. Every time her mind drifted, it drifted to Janeway.

“Doctor to Seven,” her comm badge chirped breaking her reverie. She made a note to visit with the Janeway simulation if she got a moment later. If she ran the Velocity program, she might even be able to test part of her hypothesis.

“Seven here,” she replied even as she began to move towards the doors of the bay.

“Please report to sick bay. I’d like to run a diagnostic check on my matrix. The nebula seems to be interfering with the mobile emitter.”

“The nebula has been interfering with all the technology onboard Voyager. I will be with you momentarily. Seven out.”

  
The nebula was upping the stakes, interfering not just with EMH, but with the ship’s systems as well. Seven spent several hours in Engineering juryrigging relays around various blown conduits and sensors. When she was finally satisfied that systems were stable, she hailed the Doctor before setting off for the Holodeck for an hour of Velocity.

 

 

The game began normally enough. Seven had even changed into her Velocity clothes, the stretchy black material that always drew the real Janeway’s eye. It turned out the simulation Janeway was no different. Seven had done nothing to alter the parameters of the program and it was in fact the Captain that had programmed her own hologram. Curious, thought Seven as she fought to remind herself that none of it was real.

The game progressed with Seven trailing, irritatingly unable to beat the simulated Janeway either. Her competitive nature was so strong, Seven had to stop and remind herself that winning was not the objective of this particular match. Against her instincts, Seven dove a nanosecond too late for a shot. She clattered to the ground, missing the relatively easy shot in the process. The Captain happily took the point before rushing over to Seven. Anticipating this reaction, Seven clasped the Captain’s outstretched hand but made no attempt to rise. Instead, she gave a good tug in response and Janeway toppled forward, landing heavily upon Seven’s torso.

Seven had not anticipated having the air knocked from her lungs or the sharp pain that accompanied it. Nor had she anticipated the extreme electricity generated by their bodies, their bare limbs, being suddenly and inextricably entwined. Her heart pounded and her stomach dropped. Simulation or not, Seven’s reaction was undeniable. A curious look had come over the simulated Captain’s face. Seven had seen that look before but never as plainly, as boldly as she did right then.

The simulated Janeway began to raise herself up, her eyes never leaving Seven’s. Her eyes were dilated, only a narrow halo of blue shone through her unblinking gaze. Seven couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and suddenly she felt herself lean slightly forward as she captured Janeway’s lips with her own. She felt one of Janeway’s hands wrap around the back of her neck, pulling Seven even closer and deepening the kiss. It seemed to go on for an eternity. And then, in a flash, it was gone, replaced by the empty black and orange of the the empty Hologrid.

Seven sat for a long moment trying to process what had just transpired. She had come to zero conclusions before the Doctor’s hail interrupted her thoughts. She was indeed late for their evening meeting and it was not like her to lose track of time. Her internal chronometer usually kept her precisely on time. She hurried up to Sick Bay to meet the Doctor. In her haste, she had forgotten to change back into her bio suit. She immediately regretted this further slip as she watched the Doctor struggle to keep his eyes focused on her eyes. Seven had not minded that look on Janeway’s face but on the visage of the EMH it truly displeased her.

“So, how was Velocity? Looks like it was a rousing match,” he chattered at her.

“It was invigorating,” Seven replied, the flush from the kiss still clinging to her sharp cheekbones.

“Well I can see that!” He quipped back. “So who won?” He knew she’d been playing against the Captain. He’d almost spied on her program but he’d stopped himself.

“She did,” Seven replied quickly, hoping that would bring an end to the chitchat. She was mistaken.

“Chalk one up for the holograms,” he smiled brightly. But as he looked closer at Seven, he became concerned. The flush had not faded from Seven’s cheeks and her heart rate was still elevated. But just as he was about to inquire, he glanced down at the stasis pod where they’d stopped. Captain Janeway’s calm face looked up at him. He looked from the Captain to Seven to the tricorder in his hand. It was true then, he thought. Seven had clearly developed feelings for the Captain. Part of him wanted to intercede but Seven had grown prickly and distant as of late. He was reasonably certain that, unless she asked, she would heed no advice from him. At the moment she was glaring at him.

“Did anything unusual happen during the match?” He couldn’t help himself.

They had moved onto the next row of pods and were currently standing above Lieutenant Tuvok. He did not look very different in stasis, his Vulcan serenity was unchanged. Seven had a sudden urge to tell the Doctor of her recent revelations, of the kiss. She opened her mouth but had no idea what to say.

“No,” she finally managed. “I do have a philosophical question. Perhaps you could advise me?”

“I can try,” he replied, looking a little too pleased.

“Do you believe it possible for a hologram to act against its program?” It was a loaded question. She could have asked him about the kiss or the emotional confusion but neither without breaching the Captain’s trust somehow. Her hologram was fair game.

“Well I like to believe I have exceeded my programming.”

“Indeed. But you have merely enhanced it, a worthy endeavor to be sure, but I was asking more if you could act against the program, in a negative sense,” Seven knew she was doing a poor job, evasion was not her strong suit.

“Did something happen during Velocity?” The Doctor turned sharply to face her. “Did the Captain’s hologram act strangely?”

“Nothing happened but the holographic Captain seems more relaxed, more at ease? I am uncertain exactly what it is. I am merely asking if you think that may be a result of her program or could the hologram be malfunctioning?”

“Well, that may be hard to diagnose without examining the hologram. Are you sure there wasn’t something more specific?” The Doctor was stymied at the question.

“No,” chirped Seven. “I believe I have ‘talked it out’. The logical conclusion is that a functioning hologram stays within the program, exceeding perhaps but not contradicting it.”

“Well if you are satisfied. I’d happily take a look at that program though.”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” they’d reached the last row of pods. “I believe I might try regenerating early tonight. My cycle ended prematurely again last night.”

“Have you been having trouble regenerating since we’ve been in the nebula?”

“Yes, I believe it to be the cause,” Seven had not meant to mention the troubled sleep.

“Well I would like to run a full diagnostic on you tomorrow. I will keep an eye on the sensors tonight. Sleep—er regenerate well!”

“Goodnight, Doctor,” Seven said quietly before make a beeline for Cargo Bay Two.

 

 

Later that night, long after the Doctor had retired to Sick Bay, Seven made her way back to Deck Fourteen. Her feet carried her forward though there was little reason to check the stasis pods again. She wanted to see the Captain. Was desperate to see her, in fact. After the kiss that transpired in the Holodeck, she had so many questions for Janeway and no way for her to get any answers. But there was a certain comfort in just being near her. Seven walked around the pods giving them just the most cursory of glances. Her feet slowed at the end of the row as her eyes settled on the familiar sleeping features of Kathryn Janeway. A now familiar queasiness took hold of her stomach muscles and she had to force herself to breathe.

“I desire a discussion, Captain,” Seven said quietly, knowing full well Janeway could not hear her. “I have many questions. But— you cannot help me,” Seven’s voice trailed away as feeling of dread began to replace the nausea. Seven stood for a long time, silence filling the space her voice had occupied. She doubted Janeway would be able to help even if she was awake. This was not actually a problem caused by the nebula, merely revealed by it. While it was true that Seven had been noticing Janeway more and more the longer she remained on Voyager, the nebula was certainly playing a catalytic role. Looking at the unlined face below her, Seven wondered how long she might have gone without realizing the peculiar feelings were those of attraction and desire, even love.

The problem wasn’t in Seven’s feelings but in the Captain’s. Seven had checked Starfleet’s protocols and while there was no hard fast rule against it, relationships between Captains and members of their crew were heavily discouraged, even frowned upon. The reason was both clear and logical and Seven felt her heart sink further knowing Janeway would not breach that level of conduct. The only hope that Seven held was that the prohibition seemed to only cover the physical consummation of such a relationship. While Seven was becoming more desirous of Janeway with every moment of awareness, she found herself sated by the idea of just being able to speak with her, not just her hologram. That was the nebula creeping in and perhaps that hologram too. Seven still could not fathom why it had been programmed with broader parameters than the Captain would ever allow herself in real life. More puzzled than ever, Seven gave a last look at Janeway before sliding away into the remaining night.

 

****

 

Dappled sunlight filtered through the ancient oaks leaving undulating shadows dancing on the grass before her feet. The air smelled sweet and new, freshly minted that morning. There was nothing quite like early spring on the farm, she thought, taking a deep breath and smiling. It was early yet, a barn owl hooted in the distance, finally sated after her night’s hunting. Robins darted over the damp grass, pecking and hopping, hoping for an elusive worm to cross their claws. Kathryn stood and stretched, her jeans damp from her dewy perch. Beyond her lay the fields passed down for generations, her family homestead for hundreds of years. Long before Starfleet existed, the Janeway farm stood flourishing under the Indiana sun. Way back then, when computers were still new, they worked the land in the old ways, by hand. Even now, Traditionalism reigned supreme here. The beautiful loamy rows behind her were still made by tiller and plough.

Kathryn was glad to be home though she could remember nothing of arriving. In fact, her memories of the last few years were a horrible jumble. She remembered Voyager, she remembered Mark, remembered being lost and stranded in the Delta Quadrant. But what was she doing here? Had she died? Was this…what was this?

It was lonely for a start. Where was everyone? She felt like she’d been there for ages but not seen a single other soul. That was weird. But then she found, she forgot more whenever she tried to remember. The linear progression of time was absent here. Was is today or tomorrow?

Panic seized her as she stepped into the all too real and vivid sunlight. She remembered the Caretaker with a start, realizing that this could all be a projection, not her home at all.

She started to walk, her feet felt strange in her old boots, her legs felt weird freed of the black and red constraints of uniform and rank. Here she was just Kathryn. And in that, she realized that her surroundings may not be real but they weren’t alien either.

 

Deep in artificial slumber, Captain Janeway was not supposed to be dreaming. No brain activity appeared on any scan. She and the crew continued in stasis as the days in the nebula continued to wear away at Seven, the Doctor, and Voyager as a whole. It had been four weeks now and things were starting to go sideways at an alarming rate. Seven struggled to keep up with the malfunctioning ship even as it became clear that she was beginning to malfunction as well. She was so preoccupied with maintaining the ships functions, she found less and less time to focus on Janeway and the jumble of emotions therein. She’d been reduced to a single nightly pass, a fleeting happy thought before regenerating. But now, with less than a week to go, she was not even managing that.

It was the appearance of the alien, Trajis Lo-Tarik, that finally broke Seven’s crumbling control. He played on her every fear, and, as the loneliness crescendoed, even the Doctor abandoned her to her wildest thoughts. Try as she might, Seven could not fight any harder. With systems failing all around and a terrifying vision of her Captain, Her Captain, deriding and demeaning her, Seven finally succumbed to the darkness all around her.

 

****

  
The farmhouse lay just above her, catching the early sun on the porch. Kathryn squinted and breathed deeply. It certainly felt real. And right. So she kept walking forward. She reached the first step and was suddenly surrounded by the aroma of coffee. Trick or not, she no longer cared as her mouth began to water at the the mere thought of a mug full of real coffee. She abandoned her caution and galloped through the front door. She followed the scent back to the kitchen but was completely unprepared for who she found sitting at the table.

  
Admiral Edward Janeway sat at the scarred wooden table, a ceramic mug before him. He was not in uniform, instead he wore an ensemble loosely resembling Kathryn’s, red flannel and denim, looking almost like a farmer, almost. His command presence shone through his sparkling, azure eyes as his eldest daughter stopped dead in her tracks. The color drained from her face as her jaw dropped.

“I—I must be dead,” she declared, her voice seeming to come from someone else entirely.

“You’re not dead, my darling Katie, you’re in stasis. Don’t you you remember?” He was still smiling. Kathryn took a wary step forward and narrowed her eyes at him.

“But you—you’re—

“Dead. Yes, that’s still true I’m afraid. But that’s not why we’re here. Now, my girl, can I interest you some coffee?”

Kathryn knew she should be wary but the temptation was too great. She reached forward but her hand stopped short of accepting the proffered mug.

“Wait. Just wait. If you are my father, and I’m not dead, then just what the hell is going on?”

“Calm down, kid. You’ll hurt yourself like that. Trust me or not. It’s your dream.”

“A dream. Ok, the Doctor said we wouldn’t dream in stasis. That all of our vital functions would be essentially frozen.”

“Your EMH doesn’t know everything. But I haven’t got much time here. What do I have to do to convince you? Or can you just trust your father just this time?”

Kathryn stood, frozen but thinking. They’d had their share of alien invaders of the subconscious variety but this didn’t feel like that. She threw off the last of her reservations and reached forward, this time accepting the coffee and sitting down across from him.

“I’ll bite,” she said. “What gives, Dad?” She took a sip of coffee and it was divine, so good in fact that she nearly forgot to listen to the answer.

“Well, there was a lot I never got to tell you, and I fear you might have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Oh,” Kathryn’s eyebrows reached for the ceiling. “How so?” That tone worked on countless officers but had little effect on her father.

“Maybe you’re wondering why I’m here in my civvies, no uniform anywhere in sight?”

She looked him over again and realized she’d only ever seen him out of uniform on their yearly vacations and occasionally on holidays. Her image of him was one of Starfleet.

“But you were Starfleet, Dad, and you taught me well.”

“Too well,” he snorted, a mannerism his daughter had inherited. “I wasn’t only Starfleet, Kathryn. Even if it must have seemed like it.”

“What are you saying?” She knew from his use of her full name that he was being deadly serious.

“I’m saying don’t forget to take off your uniform sometimes, Katie, and more importantly there are some chances you only get once, miss them and they’re gone forever.

“I love you, Kathryn and I have missed you and your mother and Phoebe. You were always far more important to me than any rank or title Starfleet could ever bestow. It was your mother that gave me purpose, and you girls, Starfleet was just great at capitalizing on that. I don’t regret my choices.  
Be careful with yours.”

Kathryn sat gaping for a moment but before she could respond, a shimmering light refracted all around her. She was blinded by it. Then in a flash it was gone. Darkness surrounded her.

“Dad!” She yelled. “Dad, I love you! Daddy!” But he was gone. As was the farmhouse. She was alone in the dark. A bolt of fear shot through her. Seven! Her mind screamed. Then, with a rush of air, she did scream.

“Seven! Seven of Nine!”

Janeway toppled out of the stasis pod, another scream on her lips. But before she could bellow, Tom Paris caught her by the arm.

“We’ve got her Captain. The Doctor just came back online. He’s treating her now.”

“The nebula?”

“We’re through it.”

“That’s great news,” she said as she fought to stand on her wobbling legs.

“Yeah, the Doctor said we might feel a bit weak for awhile,” Tom said, extending his hand to her as she lost her footing again.

Tuvok and Chakotay were suddenly before her, all of them scrambling to brief the other. Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose as she leaned back against the pod.

“Gentlemen, now that we have cleared the nebula, I want us back on course. I want status reports in two hours. Tuvok, you have the bridge. Tom, come with me to Sick Bay.”

Janeway lit off, a tiny bedraggled rocket, forcing Tom to run just to keep up with her. Chakotay looked around at the slowly opening pods and realized he needed to get the crew up and moving. He’d need hyposprays of his own and so he followed in the Captain’s wake, trailing behind Paris all the way to Sick Bay.

Tom never did catch up with her and Janeway dashed in breathless and wild eyed. The Doctor would have laughed at the sight of her but he was furiously working to keep Seven’s systems from shutting down completely. He had just barely gotten her cortical node back and realigned. She was stabilizing and he breathed a holographic sigh of relief.

The Captain practically leapt at him.

“How’s she doing?” Panic oozed through a crack in her command mask, making her voice shake ever so slightly.

“Better now. She’s stable but her remaining Borg systems took a heavy beating. She’s not awake yet.” The Doctor’s eyes followed Janeway’s as she gazed down with a look he’d never seen the Captain give anyone. Before he could comment, Tom Paris arrived followed moments later by Chakotay.

Tom looked from Seven to the Captain to the EMH and decided he’d rather help Chakotay with the rest of the crew. The Commander, on the other hand, was hovering awkwardly behind Janeway.

Seven’s eyes began to flutter before flying open wide and falling immediately on the shining blue eyes of Kathryn Janeway. Seven did not know what was going on or even where she was and for one long moment, she did not care. She could only stare at the beaming visage before her. She did not comprehend the words spoken or even attempt to take her eyes from Janeway’s.

Tom left with Chakotay, laden with hyposprays loaded with mild stimulants for those members of the crew suffering from stasis ‘hangovers’. Chakotay thought he might need one as well as his head had begun to pound. It was definitely from stasis, nothing to the smoldering exchange of looks he’d just witnessed. No, it was definitely not that at all.

Back in Sick Bay, the Doctor was still running scans.

“Well,” he said finally, “I think you’ll be good as new after a full regeneration cycle. Eight hours should do it. But feel free to rest here as long as you like. And Captain, I’d like to—

“I’m fine Doc, really,” said Janeway, suddenly coming back to her senses. She finally broke her eyes from Seven and took a step back from the biobed.

“Actually, I need to go check on—everything!” Panic surged as she fought to lower her bossy hauberk.

Seven had just managed to sit up and was suddenly mere inches from Janeway. The electricity passing between them was palpable.

“I’ll be—come see me when you’re finished regenerating,” Janeway started to move away but stopped suddenly and looked down at her wrist where Seven’s long, slender fingers were curled. Her eyes rose slowly to meet Seven’s as her heart pounded out of her chest.

“Thank You, Captain,” Seven’s voice was soft and low. “I—I missed our—I missed you.” A pink tinge grew from Sevens neck all the way across her cheeks. Janeway felt as if her own skin might catch fire. No words sprang to her lips and yet she did not pull away.

“Come find me, when you’re rested,” Janeway whispered again, her cheeks still scarlet. Seven released her hold and the Captain’s mask descended. She turned and sprinted away from the bay without another word.

“What was that all about?” The EMH appeared as if from nowhere, startling Seven who met his eyes with a glare. Before he could push her to answer, Harry Kim and Tom Paris came crashing in, zooming around like quantum fleas. The Doctor’s attention was clearly diverted by the hyperactive crew and Seven was grateful.

“I believe I will regenerate now,” Seven said standing up from the biobed and narrowly avoiding Harry’s flapping arms.

“Seven, I will need to see you tomorrow for a diagnostic,” the EMH yelled over his shoulder. “Those were very powerful stimulants!” She heard him yell before the doors swished closed behind her.

 

 

The Cargo Bay was dark save for the green glow of Seven’s alcove. The dim lighting suited the Captain just fine as she slunk in from the corridor and around a familiar maze of cargo crates. It was 0300 and Janeway found sleep eluding her. It was unsurprising given the month long stasis, Voyager was currently abound with insomnia but the Captain had only seen B’Elanna chasing a still hopped up Paris through deck twelve.

Stasis had taken its toll on Janeway and while she could not recall the dreams she’d had, a few glimpses lingered, haunting her whenever she tried to close her eyes. It was enough to keep her up and moving restlessly through the ship. Her feet had a mind of their own and, without thinking, she found herself standing directly in front of an inert Seven of Nine.

The interaction in Sick Bay had jolted the good Captain’s senses. She’d been denying the signs for a long time, practically as long as Seven had been severed from the Collective. What had begun as a need to protect Seven, to take responsibility for her re-introduction to humanity, had long ago surpassed those boundaries. She told herself she was Seven’s mentor, nothing else, and then ignored the clenching wave in her abdomen whenever Seven appeared unbidden. In fact, Seven had long ago invaded her dreams and Janeway was mortified but unable to stop it. The Doctor had prescribed a sedative for dreamless sleep but she’d never taken it. She had even gone so far as to design a hologram of herself absent her command responsibility. That had proved all too revealing as the hologram made little attempt to staunch her obvious attraction to the holographic Seven. Janeway had deleted the program without realizing the copy remained in the buffers.

The truth was that Kathryn Janeway loved Seven of Nine and she knew it, deep down at least. But Captain Janeway could love no one. As the Captain, she had to keep Seven at arms length. It had proved impossible though. Seven always seemed to find a way and the look, the touch in Sick Bay, couldn’t be ignored. She would have to address it, shut it down, and then retreat. There was no other option, not while they were stuck still so far from home.

She should not have come to the Cargo Bay. She should have tried harder to resist her subconscious impulses. She would have to be more disciplined moving forward. But just for tonight, she thought, looking up at Seven’s serene features. Her heart gave a flutter in her chest and she sighed.

“Regeneration Incomplete”

Janeway’s eyes grew wide as she watched Seven’s features snap back to life. This was her fear and it was already too late, she was caught. Panic shot through her, searing her every nerve and making her jump back a step.

“Captain,” Seven said evenly, no surprise at Janeway’s presence evident in her sparkling eyes.

“Seven, I—I just wanted to check on you. I know the time in the nebula must not have been easy. But this isn’t the time to discuss it. I should be going. Just this insomnia, makes me wander.” She was babbling like a terrified Ensign. Her cheeks were flushed and Seven found she had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing at this uncharacteristic display of nerves from her unflappable captain.

Seven wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. She may have not known what to do but she knew she had to do something. This was a turning point, a fork in the road, and she wanted it to be clear that she was choosing Janeway.

Seven stepped down from the dais and stood, for the second time that day, mere inches from Janeway. She raised her eyebrow, as her gaze never left Janeway’s gaping eyes. Seven noted an increase in both of their heart rates and respiration and she hoped her hypothesis was correct. She took a step forward and Janeway stepped back. Seven took another step and Janeway stepped back, colliding lightly with the console opposite Seven’s alcove.

Janeway looked quickly down at the offending console and then turned back to meet Seven’s eyes. Before she could react, she felt the soft brush of Seven’s full lips against her own. Lightning surged through her bloodstream and without thinking, she parted her lips and kissed her back. This was exactly what could not happen. That’s what she should have been thinking, but Kathryn Janeway wasn’t thinking at all. She was being slowly consumed by Seven’s lips and she was ready to cast her pips aside when Seven suddenly broke the kiss and stepped back.

Breathing hard, Seven’s eyes studied Janeway from head to toe as she tried to steel herself. The words she had to say connoted weakness and need, two emotions Seven struggled to accept. But Seven needed to explain, her insufficient vocabulary would have to do.

Janeway was breathing hard as well and her eyes hadn’t left Seven. Every word had suddenly left her tongue though. She was still searching for one when Seven began to speak.

“Forgive me Captain,” she began as her eyes finally dropped away from Janeway, as she focused instead on a streak of grease on the deck beneath her feet. Her heart was pounding in an unborglike manner and it was distracting her from her mission.

“I know that was inappropriate, I could think of no other way to show you how I felt. I lack the idiomatic language to express these emotional responses. I know nothing more can come of this, I assimilated all appropriate protocols, all relevant references. But I needed you to know.”

Seven’s cheeks were flushed and she did not look up when she finished speaking. Janeway herself was stunned, her nerves still jumping from the kiss. Seven had gone and made the Starfleet excuse, Janeway finally managed to think, and it sounded even lamer out loud. That didn’t change the veracity of the statement.

“Seven,” she said softly, drawing Seven’s eyes back to her own. “I will only say this once, we need to be very clear here, but I, Kathryn Janeway, I love you. I can’t pretend that isn’t true anymore. But, as captain I do not have that luxury.”

A range of emotions passed through Seven’s turquoise eyes making them unreadable.

“You love me?” Seven said, more declaration than question. Then she continued, her eyes now glinting.

“In the nebula, many things gained clarity. As Borg, I relied upon the strength of the Collective. As an individual I—I have ‘no such luxury’. I must rely on my own strength. It wavered in the the nebula,” Seven’s eyes darted for a moment. She took a long, slow breath before continuing.

“I, Seven of Nine, need you, to function within acceptable parameters. The nature of that relationship depends on you, I would never attempt to come between my Captain and her ship. I can wait for you, if you wish. I can adapt. I have the patience of a million species. It is your resolve I doubt. And my ability to deny you…anything.”

Now Janeway’s jaw really fell to the deck. She was utterly unprepared for such a reply from Seven. That it was painfully accurate helped nothing. And when had Seven learned to flirt like that? What the hell had really happened in that nebula?!

None of that stemmed from Janeway’s lips though. She stood dumbstruck, looking at the very choice her subconscious had threatened her with in the stasis dream. The ball was in her court and Janeway had to take a swing. On one hand, she could acquiesce to protocol, to Starfleet. That was the logical choice, the safe choice. On the other hand stood Seven, Seven who made her feel so much it threatened every control. Seven who pushed her and kept her honest, who terrified her. She’d never made a choice like that. She’d never given her heart a full go ahead, at least not since her father died over twenty years ago. She’d protected herself since then, guarding against ever feeling so much for one person again. And so her relationships since then had all been safe, controlled, even convenient. Before her stood the antithesis of all that. Suddenly she heard her father’s voice in her head.

“I love you, Katie, my brave girl,” he whispered and the words filtered through Janeway’s nerves, running the length of her spine. She stood straighter, her command mask hovering, wavering, as her heart pounded. She closed her eyes tightly but she could still see Seven before her. When she opened them again, they fell upon Seven looking crestfallen and strikingly pale. Her blonde hair was loose and falling in her eyes, eyes that she refused to lift from the deck.

The long silence had caused doubt to ripple through Seven. She felt ill and very un-Borg. She had ruined everything. Pushed too hard. The echo of derisive laughter resounded in her mind. She winced without realizing it and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to still her pounding pulse. But then she felt something that caused her eyes to snap open.

Kathryn Janeway reached forward and grasped Seven’s metal tipped fingers. They were cooler than she expected and she quickly slotted her fingers between the enhanced digits. Seven looked down at their entwined fingers, a look of shock written across her face.

“There are probably a million reasons we should not do this,” Janeway began and Seven held her breath. “But right at this moment, I can’t remember a single one.”

“Starfleet,” Seven began but Janeway interrupted her.

“There are some things bigger than Starfleet.”

Then Janeway took a small step forward and stood on her toes. Seven was frozen, still un-breathing, as she felt Janeway’s free left hand circle her neck, pulling her forward.

It began as a light kiss, almost chaste, as their lips brushed and moved against each other. Seven was already gasping for air and as she parted her lips to inhale, she felt the tip of Janeway’s tongue begging entrance. Seven forgot all about breathing as her tongue began to tangle with Kathryn’s. They were no longer holding hands, both Kathryn’s hands wrapped around Seven’s shoulders as Seven held her around the waist, pulling her ever closer.

The klaxons suddenly blared as the emergency lighting illuminated everything around them in red. They reluctantly moved apart gasping and staring.

Janeway backed up a step, looking abashed and disheveled as she slapped her comm badge.

“Report!” She barked.

As quickly as it had started, the alarm stopped. The Harry Kim’s shaking voice broke over the comm.

“False alarm, Captain. I’m sorry. The stimulant in those hypos seem to have some folks extra jumpy. Ensign Moray mistook something on sensors and triggered the alarm. I only just caught it now.”

Janeway took a deep breath before continuing. She was definitely not in her right mind but this was also not a crisis. She should be grateful she supposed.

“Ensign, please have any afflicted crewman report to Sick Bay immediately.”

“Janeway to Commander Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here.” The commander sounded groggy.

“Chakotay I need you to go take the bridge from Harry. They seem to still be suffering from those hyposprays.”

“Sure. I mean yes, Captain.”

“Thank you. Janeway out.”

Seven had often been impressed by both the speed and imperiousness of the Captain’s command mask. Now she feared it being turned back on her. Janeway’s face had become unreadable and Seven’s breath caught.

“I should let you get back to regenerating,” the Captain replied and Seven’s heart fell. “Or we can take this discussion back to my quarters.”

Seven’s face lit up like a supernova and she reached for Janeway’s hand once more.

“Two for site to site transport to the Captain’s quarters, authorization Janeway theta alpha rho.”

 

 

Epilogue

 

  
They appeared with a shimmer, already entwined. The lights were low throughout Janeway’s quarters owing to the late hour. Neither of them noticed the low light or anything else for that matter. They were completely ensconced in one another. They were moving fast, too fast, and Janeway reluctantly came up for air.

“We’re going to have to talk about this,” she said to a half lidded, wild haired Seven. “This,” she waved a wavering hand, “this changes everything.”

“Indeed,” Seven replied, her face suddenly breaking into and enormous grin.

“Are you making fun of me?” Janeway wasn’t sure if she was more shocked by the thousand watt smile or by the implied sarcasm. All she really knew was that she couldn’t stop staring at Seven. So she didn’t. She beamed back at Seven, knowing she must look exactly like a fool in love.

“Captain,” Seven began.

“Kathryn. In here, always Kathryn. That’s the deal.”

“Kathryn,” Seven purred and Janeway felt her knees go weak, “I would like to kiss you again.”

And so it began with them crashing into each other and then crashing into the back of the couch. Seven, ever efficient, let her hands roam ever lower until she had managed to lift Kathryn from the ground. Acting on instinct, the lithe redhead wrapped her legs around Seven’s muscled torso. They stood locked light that for a moment before Seven began to move towards the darkened bedroom.

“Wait, wait,” Kathryn managed to gasp around Seven’s mouth. Seven stopped walking, standing directly in the doorframe of the bedroom.

“What am I waiting for, Kathryn?”

There it was again. Her name from Seven’s lips.

“My bed—it’s—it’s unmade,” Janeway stammered, the nerves of what was about to transpire were shooting her through with a sudden doubt. It had been six years, six long years of celibacy. Her last lover had been Mark and while he was a great guy, he’d never made her feel a fraction of the the emotions currently coursing through her veins. And she’d never actually been with a woman, which was playing on her confidence. Add in the twenty year age gap between her and Seven and she was practically ready to call the whole thing off.

Sensing apprehension, Seven’s eyes found Kathryn’s in the half light.

“Are you afraid, Kathryn?”

Janeway nodded and held Seven tighter.

“I am also scared. Borg do not get scared.”

With that, Seven took the last steps into the darkened bedroom, reluctantly returning Kathryn to the floor. They stood wordlessly facing each other in the shadowy light. The enormity of the situation had frozen Kathryn where she’d landed. So Seven took control, reaching around the back of her blue biosuit and releasing the clasp. With a hissing pop, the suit released and immediately lost cohesion as it pooled quickly at her feet. Seven stepped out, lightly kicking it and her heeled boots to the side of the bed.

Kathryn now stood absolutely agog. Even in the darkness, Seven was stunning. Janeway felt her heart flutter and her blood begin to boil. She ripped off her old academy t-shirt as Seven tugged at the waistband of her pajama pants. She giggled at Seven’s touch, wishing like hell she was wearing her satin nightgown instead. Once freed from her pants, Seven pounced, feral and feline and fixated on devouring Janeway. She was a force. Kathryn decided resistance was certainly futile as Seven’s glorious body was suddenly covering her own. She moaned outright as Seven scraped her teeth over her sensitive neck.

Kathryn was pinned beneath Seven and couldn’t remember being so turned on in her entire life. Every kiss, every touch left a trail of fire leading directly to her loins. Seven was dismantling her piece by piece. That was the last cognitive thought she had before Seven captured her aching nipple between her teeth. She heard herself moan again as Seven moved lower, memorizing Kathryn’s body with her mouth. Blonde hair had just swept over her abdomen when Seven stopped with a start.

“I had thought beauty irrelevant, Kathryn,” she purred, her body now rested entirely between Kathryn’s parted legs. “I was mistaken.” And with that Seven lowered her mouth directly to Kathryn’s dripping clit and for the first time, heard her own name screamed in ecstasy.

Not one to be outdone, Kathryn pounced back at Seven as soon as she began to breathe again, shocking Seven and flipping her almost effortlessly. Seven’s eyes shone bright and wide beneath her and Kathryn smiled looking down at this goddess before her. Seven’s body was perfect and where she was scarred by implants, she was also extra sensitive. Kathryn took her time as Seven squirmed and writhed, completely unprepared for the resonance of Kathryn’s touch upon her skin.

Kathryn kissed Seven deeply, running a finger around her optical implant and making Seven shudder. She replaced her fingers with her lips and Seven began to buck and whimper. Kathryn repeated this experiment moving down Seven’s swanlike neck to her ample breasts, paying special attention to the pebbling nipples before drawing one after the other into her mouth. She was slow and deliberate. Seven thought she might explode. Then she felt Kathryn’s long fingers slip between her thighs. The sensation was nothing Seven could have imagined as Kathryn’s fingers glided through the copious wetness, teasing her, before thrusting into her with two fingers. Seven raised her eyes to find Kathryn already looking at her, Kathryn, who was deep inside her. Seven’s cortical node could take no more and her human systems took over. Her hips bucked in rhythm to the pulsing, thrumming fingers. Seven felt a rise and she yelped, yelling for Kathryn.

Seven was divine and Kathryn could hardly get enough of her. Seven’s velvet walls closed tight around her fingers. She lowered her other hand and found Seven’s clit, stroking it in the same rhythm. Seven did topple then, her Borg hand grasping for the metal bed frame. She let loose a strangled cry as she came and, with a crunch of metal, quickly came again. Just as Kathryn began to withdraw her fingers, she felt Seven’s fingers suddenly enter her. She realized with a shock of fear and lust that it was Seven’s metal tipped fingers pushing deeper, until a strangled cry broke her lips. She pushed back and they began to thrust against each other, a tangled sweaty heap of limbs, lifting each other higher and higher. They were frenzied and their motions quickly became erratic. Then Seven extended her thumb, reaching Kathryn’s engorged clit. Kathryn’s fingers moved skillfully, three were inside Seven as her left hand had never left the dripping cleft above. Shaking, panting, sweating, the acme bore up before them and they leapt, holding tight to each other, screaming as they fell.

They came to on the deck, tangled in the sheets and each other’s limbs.

“Kathryn,” Seven whispered.

“Yes, love,” came the quiet reply.

“I believe I love you.”

“That’s good, because I believe I love you too,” Kathryn smiled into the darkness.

“What happens now?”

“Now we sleep—

“The time is now 0600. Wake up now, Captain,” the Computer interjected.

“Oh hell! No! No! Oh hell no! I have to be on duty in less than two hours!” Janeway tried to leap up but the sheets and Seven had other ideas and she toppled back to the deck. Seven had her pinned once more.

“I believe two hours is more than enough time,” Seven purred. Then Kathryn Janeway actually did something shocking. She acquiesced to Seven and did not put her uniform back on for another hour and a half.

 

  
Later that day in Sick Bay

 

 

Seven’s exam was quick, the Doctor could find nothing wrong with either her human or Borg systems. He did note the interruption of her regeneration cycle but Seven was prepared.

“Captain Janeway visited me late last night. She had a question and was having trouble sleeping as well. It seemed much of the crew was far more awake last night than they would ordinarily be. What was in those hyposprays?”

The EMH scoffed, insulted by her impugning his remedy. “Nothing unusual. I believe Mr. Paris and the Commander were a little loose with the dispensation.”

“Indeed,” Seven replied smugly.

“Would Captain Janeway’s visit explain the small hematoma on your neck then?”

Seven’s face went immediately scarlet and she feigned silent ignorance.

“Really Seven, you’re going to stand there and deny there is a giant hickey on your neck!”

Seven had no answer that did not implicate the Captain. She felt trapped. Why wasn’t there a red alert when you needed one?

“You can tell me, Seven. I can assure you it would remain confidential. Besides, I’ve already guessed it haven’t I?”

He was more infuriating than usual and Seven could not stop the burning flush that seemed to reach all over her body. She wanted to flee but Borg do not run away.

“Can you not repair it with the dermal regenerator?” Seven was a terrible liar and this was her best attempt at evasion.

“Of course I can but that’s not the point! Have you altered your relationship with Captain Janeway?”

The doors of Sick Bay hissed open and none other than the Captain herself waltzed through them, whistling.

“Aw don’t make her lie doc! Seven’s a terrible liar,” Janeway said beaming as she walked towards both of them. “I just stopped by to grab a dermal regenerator but I see you beat me to it.”

It was the EMH’s turn to fumble with a response. He opened and closed his mouth, giving a very good impression of a fish but not finding a single word.

“I’ll make this easy for you,” the Captain continued to smile, “I order you to speak of what I’m about to tell you to no one. This is in the strictest confidence, am I clear?”

“As crystal,” he managed to squeak.

“Good,” Janeway took another step towards Seven and wrapped her arm around Seven’s shoulders. “Your hypothesis is correct, Seven and I are seeing each other, but all of this is very new and I would like to keep it private for now. I will be meeting soon with the senior staff but until then, not a word.”

The usually verbose Doctor had been struck mute. All he seemed to be able to do was nod and smile.

“Ok, well if you’re through Seven, I could use a hand in Astrometrics,” Janeway smiled slyly, “and Doctor, I rely on your discretion.” She sailed out of Sick Bay, Seven on her heels. The Doctor continued to stand frozen, looking at the space Janeway had stood. He was still nodding and smiling.

  
Seven caught up to Janeway with three long strides, just as she reached the turbo lift.

“I suppose we’ll have to tell them now,” Janeway said with a sigh. “Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself for just a little while?”

“I have also enjoyed having you all to myself, but we will adapt,” Seven smiled, looking down at Janeway’s relaxed face.

“Well I am already logged off duty, how about salvaging the last of our alone time?”

“That would be an efficient use of our time,” replied Seven as the turbolift halted on deck three.

“That’s what I love about you, Seven, you’re always so efficient,” Janeway flirted before making a dash for her quarters, Seven at her heels.

  
The end

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! All comments and kudos gracefully accepted. And thanks too for your patience, it’s been a choppy couple of months but things are falling into place little by little.


End file.
